


Together

by mangacrack



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, First Age, Gen, Gen Work, Maeglin deserves better, Maeglin leaves Gondolin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:13:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26747887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mangacrack/pseuds/mangacrack
Summary: Maeglin studies the shackles in the dim half-light and concludes dirt must keep them together.
Comments: 15
Kudos: 89





	Together

**Author's Note:**

> Written for WhumpTober Challenge: 01. Let's hang out together - Shackled

The shackles around his wrists are old. Maeglin studies them in the dim half-light and concludes dirt must keep them together. They won't be difficult to get out of. All he needs to do it smash them firmly against a rock a few times. His strength will do the rest. A broken finger or a sprained wrist will heal as soon as he gets away from the band of Orcs that captured him. 

Maeglin curses his bad luck. They surprised him in the mines and from what he understood the Orcs were just as surprised as he was. He takes it as good news, it means they haven't a clue about Gondolin. 

Glancing around, Maeglin discovers that they didn't make it that far while he was unconscious. He killed a good number of them until one hit him over the head. Given how they don't work well in groups and only stick together because they have no other choice, they probably fought over what to do with him. 

There must be one with a little intelligence behind his forehead or else he would be dead and half-eaten by now. 

With a shiver of glee Maeglin's heart leaps. His sword is still bound to his back, heavy and comforting. Anguirel is a familiar weight and a dear friend. 

Eöl put this sword into his hands before Maeglin could walk. He remembers running his fingers running over the scabbard, learning each nick and scratch. 

He seldom ventured far without this sword and never after his father died. 

_You burned their skin when they tried to take you,_ Maeglin hums. Anguirel is awake and hissing, spitting malice at the twisted creatures around them. The sword is infused with their creator's hate towards Orcs and filled with a father's wish to protect his child. 

Anguirel wraps its dark aura around Maeglin, ready to cut skin and bones and metal. It was made from a falling star, there is little what withstands its might. 

In the end, Maeglin doesn't need to break a thumb to get out of the shackles. Anguirel is furious - and then becomes one with the night. Despite having been a star once, the light is long gone. Only the sharp edge remains and it fulfils the purpose Eöl created it for. 

The Orcs die quickly and silently. Their blood runs over the cold stone while the mountains around them are the only witness to the judgement the sword deals out. 

Maeglin moves with the blade, following its lead. 

Afterwards, he considers if he should turn back but the risk is too great. Orcs almost found Gondolin once, he cannot be the reason a remaining scout discovers the secret routes. 

So Maeglin pulls away from Gondolin with a grim expression on his face. Away from his place at the court as a prince, from the comfort he has known and the gifts he has been given. 

With little more than the clothing on his skin and the sword on his back, Maeglin disappears into the darkness, knowing that he has a good companion in Anguirel. The blade once again rests in the ugly scabbard, sated but wide awake. 

It sings. 

Of its time among the stars, of its twin resting in the wood king's clean hands and how their creator hated Thingol as much as he hated Orcs. Of a bird-woman and a little girl with eerie eyes and of a boy with a soul of strangling vines. 

Maeglin remains silent and listens to his sibling's tales, old and familiar and comforting. In Nan Elmoth, he was used to the strangeness of the forest where magic had sunken into the water below and had nourished the roots of the trees. 

It is surprising how easy it is to turn his back on Gondolin, given how much he longed to see it once. Perhaps it's as simple as that he has now seen everything his mother's city has to offer and the continent around him is so much bigger. Too grant to be ignored. 

_Where do you want to go?_ Anguirel hisses, wrapping its presence around Maeglin's mind like the tail of a snake. 

_I have kin I wish to meet,_ Maeglin thinks. 

Since he can not choose in which direction he should go, he follows the path of the moon. 


End file.
